


Swimming for Love (Or Perhaps Just a Coin)

by sky_blue44 (Kisa44)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 22:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisa44/pseuds/sky_blue44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A When in Rome AU. At Blaise and Ginny’s wedding, a drunk and rejected Draco takes a coin from the legendary Fountain of Love, which he believes will make someone fall in love with him. The next day, his long-time crush, Harry, asks him out on a date. However, a question plagues his mind: does Harry really love him or did Draco make him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swimming for Love (Or Perhaps Just a Coin)

**Author's Note:**

> Author/Artist LJ Name: sky_blue44  
> Prompter: annabellemint  
> Prompt Number: 40  
> Title: Swimming for Love (Or Perhaps Just a Coin)  
> Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Blaise/Ginny, Pansy/Theo  
> Summary: A When in Rome AU. At Blaise and Ginny’s wedding, a drunk and rejected Draco takes a coin from the legendary Fountain of Love, which he believes will make someone fall in love with him. The next day, his long-time crush, Harry, asks him out on a date. However, a question plagues his mind: does Harry really love him or did Draco make him?  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Warning(s): Sexual innuendo and mentions of sex, swearing, no Britpick, drunkenness.  
> Epilogue compliant? Nope… I am canon up to the Epilogue though.  
> Word Count:  
> Author's Notes: Thanks so much to the mods for their patience in receiving this story. Thanks to my beta, as well. I may have modified the prompt a little bit when writing this; however, I think that I stayed true enough to it that it will still satisfy you prompter! Enjoy!

Rome is one of the most beautiful cities in the world, with its piazzas and fountains. Normally, Draco would be perfectly content in Rome. He had been to the city before, and he had always enjoyed the warm sunshine he found there.  
  
Draco particularly liked how he wasn’t known there, like he was in Britain. Voldemort had never been a real threat in Italy, and the Malfoy name held none of the stigma it now had in Britain. Draco liked how he could walk aimlessly through the winding streets, without his Malfoy blonde hair marking him a Death Eater.  
  
Draco loved Rome; usually, he would take any opportunity to go. He loved his time there.  
  
However, he wasn’t having a good time in one of his favourite cities at the moment.  
  
“Oh, come on, Draco,” Pansy said, taking a bite of her cake. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”  
  
Draco didn’t respond. He was too busy downing an entire glass of wine in one swing. He knew that it wasn’t really dignified of him, but he was honestly drunk enough not to care.  
  
“You could at least  _act_ happy,” Pansy said, “for Blaise.”  
  
“I did, didn’t I?” Draco said. “I  _did_ agree to be Best Man at his wedding to the Weaselette, and I didn’t even  _call_ her that to her face.”  
  
“You know that’s the bare minimum, Draco,” Pansy sighed, touching Draco’s arm with her hand.  
  
“But it was all Blaise asked me for, and I did deliver,” Draco said, motioning a server over to get him another glass of wine. He took the wine from the server, looking up at him, and nodding his thanks. “So, he can’t blame me for getting a little tipsy at his reception,” he took a large gulp of wine under Pansy’s watchful eye. “After all, his new in-laws seem to be ahead of me in drinking, anyway.”  
  
At a table across the room sat a sea of gingers at a couple of round tables. Although they were loud, the Weasleys were not so noisy as to be abrasive… well, at least not to most people. In all honesty, it was possible that even if they had been mute and paralyzed, the Weasleys would be annoying to Draco.  
  
Pansy sighed, and jabbed Theo, who was sitting next to her, in the ribs with her elbow. He looked up from his food at his wife. Pansy and Theo had been married for nearly two years. “Yes?” he said.  
  
“Tell Draco I’m right,” she said.  
  
“Right about what?” he asked, having not paid attention. At Pansy’s sharp look, he said, hurriedly, “Draco, I suggest you listen to my lovely Pansy.”  
  
Draco groaned, looking up to the ceiling of the reception hall. “Theo, when did you turn into such a push over?”  
  
“I’m not a push over; I just know how to keep the peace at home,” Theo said.  
  
“Of course you do,” Draco said. “It couldn’t be because you’re still afr-?”  
  
“ _Anyway,_ ” Theo interrupted him, “why don’t you go dance with Pansy?”  
  
“What? I-,” Draco began.  
  
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Theo!” Pansy said, interrupting Draco.  
  
“Don’t you think that it’s a little weird that you’re encouraging another man to dance with your wife, Theo?” Draco said.  
  
“Come now, Draco,” Pansy said. “Theo here is just about the worst dancer ever, and you are incredibly skilled on the dance floor.” She rose lithely to her feet, and looked at Draco, expectantly.  
  
Draco sighed, and stood, holding out his hand to her. She took it. They walked to the dance floor, where they began to dance elegantly.  
  
“Besides,” Pansy said, as they spun, “Theo is more than aware of the fact that  _I_ am not the one you’re interested in.” She looked over to the table in the corner of the room, which Draco’s eyes had scarcely left all night.  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat at a table in the corner of the reception hall. They talked happily. Ron had his arm slung across his pregnant wife’s shoulders. They looked as cosy as ever. However, Draco hardly cared about Granger and the Weasel. No, all he really cared about was Potter.  
  
Harry had aged well. Now 27 years old, Harry was rising quickly through the Auror ranks… it was almost a given that when Robards died, Harry would become Head Auror. His appearance had improved too; he was no longer a gawky teenage boy, but a very handsome man. He had gotten taller, and had become quite muscular, due to his training. Draco may have had a few fantasies regarding Harry’s muscles (namely, being carried, and then being fucked against a wall), but that was neither here nor there. Draco imagined what it would be like to run his hands through Harry’s messy hair, or get a closer look at his bright green eyes.  
  
So, may be Draco had been in love with Harry since Hogwarts.  
  
May be he was completely hopeless.  
  
“Pansy,” Draco sighed, exasperated.  
  
“Don’t you ‘Pansy’ me,” Pansy said. “I just don’t get why you don’t try to approach him. He’s obviously interested.”  
  
“No, he’s not,” Draco said. “He’s totally straight… and even if he wasn’t, it’s not like we have a great history.”  
  
Draco dipped Pansy without warning; when she came back up, it was with a scowl, “Draco, if that boy isn’t into men, then I really am as delicate as my name…” She dipped him in return, but Draco went down willingly. When she brought him back up, they smiled at each other. “…and we both know that that is not true,” she finished.  
  
Draco chuckled, “That  _is_ true.”  
  
“As far as your history goes, it’s been ten years, Draco,” Pansy said, “and you two are determined enough to do anything.”  
  
“He’s also incredibly stubborn, Pansy,” Draco said. “He won’t be moved so easily.”  
  
“It is true that he’s stubborn, and under different circumstances, I might agree with you,” Pansy said, allowing herself to be drawn closer to Draco.  
  
“But?”  
  
“But…” Pansy said.  
  
It was at that moment that Harry and Draco’s eyes met across the hall. Harry’s eyes burned into Draco, even from meters away. Draco was so captivated, that he barely heard the rest of Pansy’s sentence. “But he’s been staring at you all night.”  
  
Pansy separated herself from Draco, and he realised that the song had ended. She smiled at him, and led him off the dance floor, placing Draco’s back to Harry’s table. “He’s coming over here,” she whispered to him, looking over Draco’s shoulder. Draco froze in panic. “Relax,” she said. “You’ll be fine.”  
  
“Pansy…” Draco said.  
  
She ignored him, “Now, good luck. I’m going to go harass my husband.” She turned and flounced away, leaving Draco in terror, alone.  
  
 _What a supportive friend,_ Draco thought bitterly.  _Okay, Draco, in five seconds you’ll turn around, and you won’t be a bumbling idiot. Okay, Draco? Shoot for intelligent and sexy. You can do it. Five… Four… Three… Two… One…_  
  
He spun on his heel, and his jaw dropped.  
  
Ten feet away from him stood Harry locked in a passionate embrace with a ginger Weasley cousin, his green eyes widened in shocked lust.  
  
Draco was bowled over by a wave of bitterness and disappointment. He spun back around on his heel, and walked back over to his table. He collapsed in his chair next to Pansy and Theo. Blaise was now seated on his other side, socialising with his friends while his wife talked with Hermione across the room.  
  
Pansy looked back and sighed when she saw Harry walking angrily in the other direction. Blaise silently handed Draco a bottle of vodka. Draco took it, and took a large gulp. As it burned his throat, he thought,  _Who needs Potter anyway?_  
  


**xXx**  


  
  
  
  
In the Piazza, outside the reception hall, stood the legendary Fountain of Love, in the centre of which stood a large cupid, shooting an arrow. It was well-known, especially by the Wizarding Community, as legend said that if one threw a coin into the basin of the fountain, one would find true love. However, if one took a coin from the fountain, one would be stealing someone’s heart.  
  
Draco stumbled out of the reception hall, a half-empty bottle of vodka in one hand. His tie was half off, and his usually perfect hair was mussed. His suit was rumpled. He unsteadily took another sip from the bottle, groaning as it went down.  
  
“Fuck!” he shouted. “Who needs him anyway?” His legs shook as he walked, “Not me, not that I ever had him.” He frowned as he brought the bottle back up to his lips. It was at that moment that he saw the fountain, lit up in front of him.  
  
Taking a final, long sip, Draco hiccupped, “Goodbye, old friend,” at the bottle, before throwing it to the side, where it smashed into pieces on the pavement. He took a few unsteady steps toward the fountain. He then rushed towards it, as if he thought it might run away from him. He stumbled into the basin of the fountain, paying no heed to the bottom of his trousers, which were getting wet.  
  
Draco looked at the coins beneath his feet, and at the cupid behind him. “Fountain of Love, huh?” he said. “May be if I take one of these coins, someone will fall in love with me, and I with them. Then, maybe I can be happy, and forget all about  _Potter.”_ He spat out the last word, as if it had burned his tongue.  
  
He bent down at the waist, reaching for a coin. As he touched the bottom of the pool, his feet flew out from under him, and he landed flat on his face. Draco was drenched. He rolled over, grasping a 50p coin in one hand. He swung one leg over the side of the fountain, leaning his back against the wall of the basin. He looked up at the sky.  
  
“Stupid love,” he groaned. “Always kicking the shite out of me.”  
  
It was at that moment that Pansy and Theo walked out of the reception hall. They rushed over to him, and Pansy hissed, “Draco, stop making a scene.”  
  
“Hello, Pans,” Draco said, allowing his arm to be draped over Theo’s shoulder. He was pulled to his feet, and was helped out of the fountain. He slipped the coin into his pocket. “Do you understand my pain?” Draco looked at her with wide eyes.  
  
Pansy sighed, “I understand it, but I think it’s stupid. To be mooning over Potter, after all these years.”  
  
Draco moaned as if he had been a victim of a great tragedy. “If you understood, you would realise that it isn’t  _stupid,_ but from the truest love there’s ever been.”  
  
Theo muttered under his breath, “What I  _understand_ is that a drunk Draco is really heavy and prone to over exaggeration.”  
  
Pansy giggled (perhaps she was a bit drunk herself), and Draco looked at him, offended. “Why, I  _never,”_  he said. “I am  _not_ heavy.” He thought for a moment, and moaned, “No one understands my pain.” He then began to sing, “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen. Nobody knows my sorrow.”  
  
“Merlin, Draco,” Pansy said. “Stop singing Muggle music all over the place. You are simply  _mortifying_  to be seen with.”  
  


**xXx**  


  
  
  
  
The next morning, Draco woke up in his hotel bed, with a pounding headache. He lay on his stomach, still in his suit, but without his shoes. The sun streamed in through his window; it hurt his eyes. In fact, there wasn’t an inch of Draco’s body that didn’t ache in some way.  
  
The memory of the previous night then flooded back into Draco’s mind, and he groaned in embarrassment. After the debaucherous night celebrating his graduation from the Mediwizard training program, he promised himself that he would never get so drunk again. Apparently, he had forsaken  _that_ idea the previous night.  
  
 _Well,_ he thought,  _at least I didn’t do anything compared to what I did New Year’s Eve 1999._ He shuddered at the memory, before sitting up, fighting his pounding headache. It was at that moment that he noticed a Pepper-Up Potion on his bedside table, along with a note. He quickly downed the potion; he almost immediately began to feel better. He then grabbed the note, and read,  
  


_Draco,_

_I nearly didn’t give you this potion. I daresay you deserve the hangover. Luckily, Theo is a far kinder friend than me. Come meet us for lunch, at Gavius, at 1pm._

_Pansy_  


  
  
  
  
Draco looked at the clock next to his bed, and realised that it was nearly noon. He groaned, and quickly got dressed. The restaurant was across town, so he needed to hurry. He cast a quick few cleaning charms on his person. was quite warm out, so he wore a pair of blue jeans and a white button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He tucked his wallet and his wand into his back pocket. He peeked into a mirror and fixed his hair. Draco smiled at the mirror to check his teeth. He left his hotel room, shutting the door, before rushing downstairs and outside.  
  
He had barely gotten halfway down the street when he heard a voice should, “Draco!”  
  
He spun on his heel; down the street, rushing to catch up with him, was Harry Potter.  
  
Draco briefly considered running away before deciding to stay put. “Potter,” Draco said, with a small smile.  
  
“Oh, come on,” Harry said. “You can call me Harry.”  
  
“Very well, then,” Draco said. “ _Harry.”_  
  
Harry’s cheeks grew red from the sun, “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you at the wedding yesterday.”  
  
“I know,” Draco said. “I wish we had.”  
  
“Well, I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out on a date… with me,” Harry said, spitting out the final two words to get them off his tongue. “May be tonight?” Draco stared at him, stunned into silence.  
Harry, however, took his silence as uncertainty. “Not – not that I want to pressure you into anything… I’m ready whenever you are. We could even go out when we get back to Britain.” He winced at his own words. “I mean,” he said, trying to be swave, smiling crookedly, “whenever is good for you.”  
  
Draco cleared his throat, and smiled. He was surprised, certainly, but excited too. “What about that girl from last night? The one you kissed?”  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows, “Yvonne?” Draco nodded, and Harry laughed. “Oh, no,” he said, “She kissed me. She follows me around all the time; it’s a little strange, but I’m kind of used to it? At any rate, she was drunk and got a little carried away. She understands now that though that I’m really not interested.”  
  
“Oh,” Draco said. “Okay.” He paused and said, “So, you’re not with that girl?”  
  
“No,” Harry replied.  
  
“Or anyone else?”  
  
“No…” Harry said, looking at him questioningly.  
  
“And you want to go out with me?” Draco said.  
  
“Definitely yes,” Harry nodded.  
  
“Okay, then,” Draco said.  
  
“Okay?” Harry said, trying (and failing) to hide a hopeful smile.  
  
“I’ll go out with you,” Draco tried not to look like he was too earnest, but he knew that he was probably failing. “You can pick me up at seven at my hotel?”  
  
“Yeah, I – okay,” he said, interrupting himself mid-thought. “I’ll see you then.”  
  
“Okay,” Draco said. He grinned broadly, unable to hold it back. “See you then.”  
  
They turned from each other, and began to walk away with a new spring in their steps. Then, Draco suddenly realised something.  
  
“Harry?” he called.  
  
Harry turned, and smiled at him, dazzling him, “What?”  
  
“Do you know what hotel I’m staying in?” Draco said.  
  
Harry laughed, and Draco soared. “Yeah,” he smiled, with a flash of his teeth. He put up a hand in farewell, and Draco responded in kind, before Harry turned again and walked away. Draco watched him go until he could not see him any longer. Then, he turned and left.  
  


**xXx**  


  
  
  
  
It was early evening before Draco found himself back in his hotel room. It had been a rather long day with Pansy and Theo. He had been forced to trail after a shopping Pansy, which Draco would not have usually minded, if it were not for Theo’s whiny presence. Sometimes, Draco wondered how exactly their relationship worked. Theo had been afraid of Pansy since he had met her, and it seemed so strange to him that they were now married.  
  
Well, it didn’t really matter to him. They somehow managed to make it work.  
  
Draco hadn’t told them about the date that night though. He knew that they would be happy for him; perhaps it was because he wanted it for just himself and Harry for the moment. So very little in both their lives had been just for them, after all. A more cowardly part of Draco could admit that it was really that he wanted to be able to lick his wounds in private if things didn’t go well.  
  
Draco bent down and picked up his dress pants off of the floor. He was trying not to leave his clothes just hanging around; he was leaving Italy in a few days, and didn’t want to make a lot of work for himself. He went into his pockets, feeling for any objects left behind. His pants were still slightly damp. Draco went into his front pocket and felt cool metal against his fingertips. He frowned, and took out a 50 pence coin. His brow furrowed, as he held in his palm. However, it was at that moment that he saw the face of his watch; it was 6:50 pm.  
  
“Fuck,” he exhaled, putting the coin down on his bedside table. He rushed to his wardrobe and opened it taking out a pair of black trousers and a dark blue button-up shirt. He put them on and slipped on a pair of black leather shoes. He checked the mirror to make sure he looked good, before rushing downstairs. He waited outside for a few moments. Draco looked at his watch. It was 6:59.  
  
“Hey!” he heard a voice call. Draco looked down the street and saw Harry walking towards him. He was in a green button-up shirt with black pants as well.  
  
Draco smiled at him, “Hey.”  
  
When Harry was next to him, he turned and they walked up the street together. “So, how was your afternoon?” Harry asked.  
  
“Not bad,” Draco replied. “I went out to lunch and went shopping with Pansy and Theo. What did you do?”  
  
“I went out with Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna. It’s our first time in Rome, so we went to all of the tourist places,” Harry said.  
  
“Oh?” Draco said. “Did you go to the Coliseum?  
  
“Yeah,” Harry grinned at him broadly, “I really liked it.”  
  
“I enjoyed it too, the first time I went to Rome.”  
  
“The first time?” Harry asked.  
  
“Well, as I’m sure you know, Blaise’s mother is originally from here,” Draco said. “He spent a lot of his summers here, and we – well, Theo, Pansy, and I – would come to visit him. His family estate isn’t in the city itself; it’s further north. However, we came to Rome enough that I know the city reasonably well.”  
  
“How many times have you been here?” Harry said.  
  
“Oh, dozens,” Draco said. “We’d usually just floo in from Blaise’s house.”  
  
“Oh, wow,” Harry said. “Since you’ve been here so much, do you have any restaurant ideas? I just looked in a travel guide, but I think you might know someplace in particular.”  
  
Draco thought for a moment, before a smile bloomed on his face. “I think I just thought of a good place,” he smiled.  
  


**xXx**  


  
  
  
  
Draco had been pleasantly surprised by how well dinner had gone. They had a surprising amount in common, and were just different enough to make good conversation. It was really exciting, to say the least.  
  
Draco caught himself cataloguing every movement Harry made. This took up almost all his attention; it was all he could do to pay attention to their conversation  _and_ watch where he was going. He had a strange feeling that Harry was having a similar problem, as he had walked into two fellow pedestrians so far (both of them yelling at him in loud Italian, as Harry attempted to offer his apologies) and had had several near misses.  
  
Their date was nearly over, but, as they came to the front of his hotel, Draco realised that he didn’t want the night to end. His thoughts buzzed around his head, as he tried to come up with some way to keep Harry with him; he thought of asking Harry to go for some late night gelato with him, to go around the block with him just one more time, to maybe, just  _maybe,_ come up to his room…  
  
They stopped in front of Draco’s hotel, and Harry turned to face him. “Well, I had a really great time tonight,” Harry said. “I really must be getting to bed though; I’m going back to London early tomorrow morning.”  
  
Draco squashed his urge to invite him up to his bed.  _Draco, don’t seem_ so  _desperate,_ a voice in his head said.  
  
“I see,” Draco said. “Do you want to get together when we get back to London?”  
  
Harry grinned brightly, “That’d be great!” Draco fought back the overly romantic thought that his smile was a bit like the dawn.  _Oh, you have it_ so  _bad,_ Pansy said in his mind. Draco had the sudden realisation that he might be going crazy…  
  
Of course it was  _Harry_ that would make him go crazy; a feat that even  _the Dark Lord_  couldn’t achieve.  
  
 _Bloody typical, really._  
  
Draco drug his thoughts back to the present. Harry said, “I ought to be available this weekend. I’ll owl you with the details this Friday, okay?”  
  
Draco nodded, and was unable to fight back a grin that mirrored Harry’s, “Sounds great!”  
  
Harry nodded decisively, and closed the distance between them; it was Draco who brought their lips together.  
  
Even Draco’s mind (which was now definitely  _delusional_ ) would claim that it was a perfect kiss. Their teeth clashed, and it was infused with the awkwardness present in first kisses between any two people. However, with Harry’s hands on his waist and Draco’s own arms around Harry’s neck, there was no place he’d rather be.  
  
They separated after a few long minutes, both as breathless as they had been as boys after a long Quidditch match. They separated, and Draco mourned the loss.  
  
Harry looked conflicted for a moment after the kiss, before seeming to come to a conclusion. “Do you remember that fountain outside of Blaise and Ginny’s reception hall?”  
  
Draco nodded, remembering the swim he had taken in it. “I sure do,” he responded.  
  
“Well,” Harry said. “Do you know the legend about it? About how if you throw a coin into it, you will find your true love?”  
  
“Yes,” Draco said.  
  
“This is a bit embarrassing, but,” Harry said, clearing his throat, “I threw a 50 pence coin into the fountain the night of Blaise and Ginny’s wedding.”  
  
Draco froze, as his mind raced. “What?” he said breathlessly.  
  
Harry seemed to mistake his breathiness for excitement. “Yeah,” he said, blushing. “I did it, and then – and then I found you.” Harry took his hand, and smiled. “I really hope I didn’t just come off as being too forward. I mean, I know this is our first date and all…”  
  
“No, no, you don’t seem too forward,” Draco said, thinking of the 50 pence coin on his bedside table. “Not at all.”  
  
“Oh,” Harry smiled, shyly. “That’s good.”  
  
Harry squeezed his hand, and said, “Well, goodnight Draco.” He lent in and kissed Draco on the cheek.  
  
“Goodnight, Harry,” Draco replied. He watched Harry walk away into the night, before running upstairs and pounding on Pansy and Theo’s hotel room door.  
  
The door swung open, and Pansy was griping, tying the tie of her dressing gown. “ _Merlin,_ do you know what time it is?” she began. “I could be in  _any_ state of dishabille; I  _am_ a happily married woman, after all…” She trailed off, seeing the panicked look on Draco’s face.  
  
“I think I’ve done something terrible,” Draco said, the words running into each other. Pansy looked at him, and Draco knew that she was thinking of other times that he had come to her door at night with the same look on his face (with alarming frequency, years ago).  
  
Pansy nodded, realising that he desperately needed help, before saying, “Give us a few moments. We just need to get dressed, then we can go talk in the hotel lobby, okay?”  
  
Draco nodded, and Pansy, shut her door to get ready.  
  


**xXx**  


  
  
  
  
It took 15 minutes to tell Pansy and Nott everything on the unfamiliar couches of the hotel lobby. It was meant to resemble a nice (if large) sitting room, but, to Draco, his couch somehow unyielding that night.  
  
When he was finished, Nott whistled and said, “Damn, I wish Blaise was here for this. He’s so much better in these kinds of situations.”  
  
The three of them knew this from experience. Blaise had a charisma that bordered on frightening; he had even been called part-Veela, despite his appearance. He was legendary for being able to soothe even the most desperate of situations, an ability that had been priceless during the War and had saved all their lives. Blaise certainly  _would_ be the best person to deal with this situation.  
  
“Well, he’s not,” Pansy said. “So, we have to handle this.”  
  
Draco was unsure who the worst at dealing with his situation actually was… it seemed to be a three-way tie, to be perfectly honest.  
  
“Well,” Pansy said. “You simply  _must_ return the coin. I think you know that.”  
  
“Of course I do,” Draco snapped. “I was just wondering how I should deal with the aftermath.”  
  
“You have to talk to him, after you return it,” Theo said. “That’s the only way you can find out anything.”  
  
To be completely honest, Draco thought that hiding in his apartment for a few days was a much safer bet.  
  
“I know that it’s going to be a bit terrifying… after all, had I ever done that to Pansy, I would have been in for it,” Theo said.  
  
Pansy smiled. “I would have chopped your balls off,” she said sweetly.  
  
A slightly panicked look entered Theo’s eyes, “I know, sweetie.” He paused for a moment, letting the fear drain out of his eyes, and a certainty filled him up from the bottom up. “It’s okay to be scared though,” Theo said.  
  
“What do you mean?” Draco said.  
  
“Well,” Theo said, “that’s all love really is, I think. I mean, I’ve been scared of Pansy since the day I met her. Do you know why that is?” He paused, and when he realised he wasn’t getting an answer, he continued, “Because she is a terrifying woman, that’s why. But, somewhere along the line, part of that fear morphed into a much deeper fear based out of the fact that anything she said or did could destroy me.”  
  
He continued, “I’m not afraid of anyone else in quite the same way… mostly because they couldn’t destroy me quite as badly. I mean, Draco, you could really hurt me, and I know that, but never the way Pansy can.”  
  
Theo paused and said, “So, that’s why you’re going to take that coin and return it to the fountain, because you deserve a  _real_ love, one that terrifies you. That’s why you’re not going to face Harry and talk to him, because love requires some risk.”  
  
Pansy looked at Theo, and kissed him soundly on the lips, leaving a dopy grin behind. “Although I’m not sure when my husband turned into such a Gryffindor, I must agree with him.”  
  
Theo looked at her, aghast, and said, “I never said he couldn’t  _minimise_ the risk. I mean, I never said that he shouldn’t meet Potter in public. After all, if he dies, it’ll be good to have witnesses for the trial.”  
  
Draco gulped in response.  
  
Hours later, Draco found himself next to the fountain, where everything had started. He flipped the coin, into the fountain, leaving everything to chance once more. He nodded at the cupid in the centre of the fountain, and walked away. Draco walked away, into the predawn light.  
  


**xXx**  


  
  
  
  
Three weeks later, Draco sat in his London flat. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and the sun was brightly shining outside.  
  
Draco was in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hair was mussed with sleep. This was extremely uncharacteristic of him. Normally, he was more dressed up than this in his off-hours.  
  
However, Draco’s thoughts were far from such things like his appearance or his profession. His thoughts dwelled on Harry.  
  
For two weeks, he received owl after owl from Harry, sending each one back with the letter unopened, with a heavier and heavier heart. For three days, Harry waited for him in the public waiting room of St. Mungo’s; Draco never showed his face. Finally, he had stopped coming. In some ways, Draco was relieved. Harry had finally given up. However, that same thought filled Draco with despair.  
  
Draco knew that he had only gone out on one date with Harry, but it had only made his crush stronger… it was now love, Draco was sure of it.  
  
Draco also knew, however, that he had destroyed any chance he had once had with Harry.  
  
It was with that sobering thought that Draco got up to make some tea. Draco was halfway out of his chair when the door to his flat slammed open.  
  
Draco jumped in surprise as he turned to see Harry in his doorway. Harry looked sweaty and exhausted, and had his wand out at the ready. Draco was shocked by his particularly disheveled appearance, but was even more taken aback by the frenzy present in his eyes. Draco stood fully, opening his mouth to speak. No words came to him.  
  
Luckily, Harry had plenty of words at the ready.  
  
"Oh, so you are okay then," he began. "I thought you might be dead or something, what, with your inability to respond to a simple letter."  
  
"Harry, I-," Draco began.  
  
Harry cut him off, "I mean, I would have understood if you had just told me that you weren't interested. There was no need to jerk me around like this."  
  
"But, Harry, I -."  
  
"Well," Harry said. "I guess that there's nothing left to say. Goodbye, Draco." Harry turned and began to walk away.  
  
He was halfway out the door when Draco finally found his words again. "I took a coin from the fountain," he confessed quickly.  
  
"What?" Harry said.  
  
"I said, I took a coin from the fountain... your coin," Draco said. "I was drunk and angry and miserable, and, quite frankly, I didn't understand what I was doing. I took your coin, and you fell in love with me." He paused, looking into Harry's eyes, "I am so sorry, Harry. I thought that returning the coin would break the spell, but I guess it didn't. I'm sure we can find some other way to break the curse."  
  
Draco looked down at his feet, awaiting the anger that was sure to come at him.  
  
He didn't expect to see Harry's shoes come into his line of vision.  
  
"But, Draco," Harry said. "That's impossible."  
  
Draco laughed mirthlessly, "I assure you that it isn't."  
  
"I mean," Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, "I've liked you for a lot longer than since the wedding."  
  
Draco tried not to get too hopeful and looked up. “What?” he asked.  
  
“Well,” Harry blushed, and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I think that I started when I was in Sixth Year... well, that’s what Hermione always said. I... I may or may not have stalked you a bit that year. Personally, though, I’m not sure when it started; I think it might have started a long time before that.” He cleared his throat, “So, yeah. I’m pretty sure that the coin couldn’t have caused that.” Harry paused for a moment, studying Draco’s face. “Are you okay?” he asked.  
  
It was at that moment that Draco realised that his mouth was wide open. He snapped it shut, before clearing his throat and saying, “It was the same for me.”  
  
Harry stared at him, a flare of hope in his eyes. “What?” he said breathlessly.  
  
“I’ve had a crush on you forever,” Draco said, with a small grin. “And I didn’t even need my best friends to confirm it for me.”  
  
Harry let out a short bark of laughter, before running a hand through his hair. “ _Merlin,_ I love you,” he exhaled.  
  
“I - I love you too,” Draco said.  
  
Draco closed the gap between them, pressing their lips together in a searing kiss. Harry was an all-too willing paricipant, once he got over his surprise, as he lifted him into his arms, and Draco wrapped his legs around his waist. He carried Draco over the couch, where they both collapsed, Harry pressing his weight lightly onto Draco.  
  
“We’re going to have to have a long conversation about your conversation skills,” Harry said, in between kisses, minutes later.  
  
“Whatever,  _Potter,_ ” Draco snarked back at him, rubbing his hands against his back underneath his shirt, and pressing his groin against Harry.  
  
Harry let out a low growl, before kissing him soundly.  
  
Yes, that conversation would happen, but it would much,  _much_ later.  
  


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